


Ollie and Death

by coryphenis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bad Decisions, Demon Summoning, Greek-Based Mythology, Growing Up, Immaturity, Juvenile Fiction, Latin-Based Language, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Accidents, Original Character(s), Original Language, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Unfinished, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coryphenis/pseuds/coryphenis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ollie the Magnificent makes a really fucking dumb decision. Fixing it may or may not be out of the question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ollie and Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ms. Freshwater](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ms.+Freshwater).



> Constructive criticism and suggestions are welcome!

Bartholomew, practitioner of _vetus peritia_ , the ancient arts, found himself in quite the conundrum. The situation was such that he was quite sure no one had ever screwed up as badly as he had in the whole entirety of history.

  
As a magician, Ollie was quite gifted, thank you very much. Never mind that he was only twelve – people were just jealous of his immense talent. After all, it wasn’t every day a boy with magical powers was born. And now, all that talent was coming back to bite him in the bum.

  
He, the oh-so-wonderful-wizard, had summoned Death – and succeeded. So now, Ollie had a seven-foot-something demon-skeleton hybrid crouched on the floor of his bedroom. The only barrier between Death and the boy was a flour-powdery circle of Summoning.

  
Outwardly, Ollie remained calm. It wouldn’t do to have his mother or – god forbid – his grandmother running up to see why he was screaming bloody murder. However, it still alarmed him when Death began to speak. In his language, no less.

  
“Boy.” Its voice was gravelly, like the sound of tires going over a backwater gravel road. “Boy, do you realize what you have brought upon yourself?”

  
Bartholomew swallowed, then began to choke. It took him a few minutes to recover, but recover he did. “… No?”

  
Death laughed, a horrible scratchy noise that made Ollie want to curl up under a pile of blankets and hide. “You have Summoned me to this plane – for what purpose, I care not.” It scratched its chest with razor-sharp claws, black against the white of its skin. A few drops of blood beaded after it had ceased, an alarming shade of indigo. “But, I think, I shall have more fun tormenting you _merani_ and your pathetic, weak bodies.”

  
Ollie’s stomach dropped to his toes, and it felt like his blood had, too. Gooseflesh rose on his arms and neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Picked this back up after my favorite teacher left in the middle of year. Miss you, Freshie!! Good luck with baby!
> 
> ||Wordbank:||  
>  **vetus peritia** \- ancient arts; magic, essentially  
>  **merani** \- mortal, human  
>  **Also, please be aware that this is a WIP - as such, it will most likely change and might end up differently than expected. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
